In The Moonlight
by abiiglorii
Summary: Kurt comes back to Dalton angry at Blaine for events that ensued that weekend. Adorableness follows. This COULD be part of a larger narrative. Review to petition for that!


It was after midnight. The moon swept into the dim room through the gap in the curtains, piercing the darkness and leaving a slice of silvery light that fell directly onto Blaine's bed, the glowing streak reflecting in Kurt's eyes as he looked up at Blaine who'd propped himself up on his elbow after being roused from a superficial slumber by Kurt.

"You can't sleep," Blaine said as he looked down at the pale face of the boy opposite him. The moonlight made his skin look nearly iridescent, "And why is that?"

Kurt tugged the comforter up higher on his body so it draped over his shoulder, sighing against the fabric as he spoke, "Restless. No reason. Well, beyond how distracting your snoring is."

Blaine rolled his eyes and lay back flat on his mattress, one of his shoulders pressed against Kurt's. "Then maybe you ought to go back down the hall to your own bed."

"I'll suffer." Kurt's voice implied that it was something noble he was doing on Blaine's behalf. Despite how he played it off, Blaine smirked...he was certain he couldn't convince Kurt to leave if he tried.

"So how can I get you to sleep?" Blaine asked as he turned his head to look at Kurt, their eyes at the same level as their pupils met. Simultaneously, the pair smiled. Kurt gave an indifferent shrug. "Here, roll over." Without protest other than a skeptical look, Kurt rolled away from Blaine and toward the window as he rested on his side. Blaine's hands came up tentatively and he placed them on either side of Kurt's shoulders, pausing so he wouldn't surprise the boy before he kneaded his fingertips into lean muscles of his back.

"Oh," Kurt breathed as his eyes squinted shut, "That's fantastic." His body went slack as Blaine's fingertips trod over his t-shirt, his movements strong and calculated through the fabric.

While still working one hand over the muscles near Kurt's neck, Blaine inched the other down toward the bottom hem of Kurt's shirt, inching it up a little so he could slip his hand underneath and back up flush with the other before he began to massage Kurt's back again. The hand that was unbridled by cotton danced over Kurt's cool skin hesitantly. It wasn't often that Blaine was allowed to touch Kurt without reason, and this definitely did not fit the typically qualifications of reason. There was something unsettling about how fantastically smooth and soft Kurt's skin was under Blaine's somewhat calloused palm-all Blaine could think about was how that same skin would feel under his mouth. Without much introduction, Blaine moved his other hand back up and under Kurt's shirt, resisting the urge to peel it off completely in one go.

"Your hands," Kurt whispered as he turned his head the slightest bit in a failed attempt to look at Blaine, "That feels great." His voice was soft and Blaine wondered if he was edging on sleep. While he knew it would be best for the exhausted boy in his bed, the selfish part of him didn't want to let go him.

"Good," Blaine mumbled, bringing his head down to rest on top of Kurt's lightly, his hands directing themselves to Kurt's sides as they, still under the shirt, traced a path to Kurt's hips which were just as smooth as his back.

Blaine's breath against Kurt's ear brought a new sensation to the forefront of Kurt's mind: lust. This was new for him, even though he'd had an endless crush on Blaine since their meeting. It was one thing to want to hold hands with a boy, to kiss him between classes, to exchange flirty text messages. It was another to want that boy's mouth on him, any part of him that Blaine would indulge. He tilted his head backward toward Blaine after he spoke.

This wasn't lost on Blaine, not a bit. Freeing one hand out from under Kurt's shirt, he reached up and raked a hand through Kurt's otherwise perfectly-styled tresses as he pulled his head back toward him slightly, his other pressing against the skin that stretched from Kurt's navel to the top of his pajama pants, bringing the boy's body flush against his. His tongue arching from his mouth, Blaine trailed it from the back of Kurt's neck to his earlobe, his thumb rubbing a circle around Kurt's belly button.

For someone as calculated and versed as Kurt at least feigned to be, the gasp of a groan that left his mouth didn't speak of composure at all. It was guttural and unintentional and it was completely proportional to how worked up he was over Blaine's well-placed kisses and touches. Without much thought, he pressed himself harder against Blaine's body, sliding against the intimate part of Blaine that now protruded enough to alert Kurt to the fact that Blaine, despite his composure, was enjoying this just as much as he was.

The moonlight shined through the window.


End file.
